


Private Dancer

by Tuunbaq



Series: Terrorbites [6]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, Microfic, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Pole Dancing, Trolling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuunbaq/pseuds/Tuunbaq
Summary: Tozer's bored with routine. Thinking he's alone, he decides to break out some fresh moves.
Series: Terrorbites [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1530395
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Private Dancer

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted for the FFA prompt - 100 words of: Pole Dancing

He was supposed to be doing his duty -- preparing the grog and tobacco rations for the men -- but Solomon loitered in the gloom of the lower decks, distracted and bored. As he paced the boards, he idly patted the shaft of the metal mast holder every time he went by it.

Something stirred in him and he grinned before launching himself onto the thick pole, meaty hands grasping it as he span round, half a foot off the deck. Tozer gyrated his hips as he landed, leaping up higher to spin around 3 times, inelegantly twisting his body to wrap his back around the pole as he landed.

Tozer let out a strangled groan from his lips as he righted himself, then danced around the pole, one hip sliding lewdly up and down the shaft as he slipped along.

Noticing a figure seated near an alcove, Tozer stopped dead. There was an awkward and prolonged silence as Tozer struggled to regain his dignity.

"Don't mind me, Sergeant. A little entertainment makes the work go quicker," Jopson said, in a tone that was infuriatingly pleasant, as he plunged the linen into his bucket again and started scrubbing, a froth building around his soap bar.

"You tell anyone about this," Tozer threatened, desperate to reclaim the manhood he'd felt he'd lost, but he fell silent, fruitlessly jabbing his finger in the air as Jopson ignored him to scrub at a particularly nasty stain.

The bell ringing out distracted Tozer. "Great," he moaned, "now I'm going to be late handing out the grog and fixings." He flung one last glance at Jopson, before going to the store room.

A few minutes later, Solomon reappeared, laden with the supplies. Jopson continued to ignore him until Tozer had put one foot on the step, then he spoke.

"You know, May Day is coming up. I'm sure the Captain would love you to lead the Maypole Dance, Sergeant."

Tozer glared at Jopson, who remained maddeningly placid as he smiled at the Sergeant, plans for revenge thwarted by Private Heather appearing at the top of the ladder.

"Need a hand, Sarge?" Heather asked, a grin covering his face as Tozer nodded.

"Afternoon, Private. Will you be treating us to some music after dinner?" Jopson asked, innocent as a lamb.

Heather's eyes lit up. "With pleasure, Mr. Jopson!"

"Excellent, I'm sure there'll be some dancing around to boot, won't there Sergeant?" Jopson said as Tozer shot daggers at him.

Tozer seethed as he shoved the supplies up to Heather. "Take these, Private. I'll be up in a minute, I have a steward to drown."

Heather wasn't sure what was going on between his Sergeant and the Captain's steward, but decided to let them alone to sort out whatever weird thing going on between them.

As he left, Jopson called out to him, "don't worry, I won't drown if I cling to the mast!"

As Heather climbed back up deck, the noise of the crew drowned out the sounds of water splashing below.


End file.
